


its you, and you are standing in the doorway

by scorpio (gradually)



Series: novembre, et d'autres choses qui me manquent [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Catholic Guilt, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, alcohol mentioned in passing, canon compliant (a lil), character study I guess, hey anyone else remember carisi's ugly mustache? just asking, i thought the season 16 finale was the season 17 finale and had to rewrite the entire second half, im venting!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 03:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12572528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gradually/pseuds/scorpio
Summary: nicolas wonders why god made him this way. nicolas thinks it was so he would suffer until the first time he is able to kiss rafael. alternately, i process catholic guilt via nick amaro





	its you, and you are standing in the doorway

**Author's Note:**

> before anyone fights me, i know its not polished, especially the ending. if i kept editing this i would probably never publish it. Hello earth, here is some trash i wrote!!
> 
> some notes about story background;; im a lil unfamiliar w/ what happens to Gil when nick moves, so I kind assumed he also moved with Maria - given that the school situation he was in was hinted at previously to not be great. Nick has no contact with his family anymore, given the events of Padre Sandunguero. in this fic Nick and Amanda were never in a previous relationship. takes place in season 17, pre-finale.
> 
> this is kind of the intro to a bigger LDR ‘verse I wanna work in! thx for reading, i might do a barba companion piece on this depending if ~my muse~ allows it

Nicolas didn’t understand why _this_ , of all things, felt natural to him. Out of all the things the world told him should come naturally to him, this was never one. Not in the pews or in his mother’s voice. Much less in his father’s shouts, in his sister’s side-eye looks at Rafael during _that_ trial. He wasn’t supposed to love Rafael as much as he did. He moved all the way to fucking _California_ to live a very happy and very heterosexual life. Nicolas Amaro really wishes he knew why God would do this to him. At the same time, God did not smite him on the spot the first time he kissed Rafael Barba, during the middle of an April thunderstorm.

**

Amaro had tried to make it work for a bit, and thank god it had paid off. It was all going... okay. He had left SVU in the summer. He had made amends with Maria and got to see the kids on the weekends. Maria had a nice boyfriend and they all had uncomfortable family dinners every once in awhile. Nick took the kids school supply shopping and made their Monday lunches. He kept in contact with a lot of the squad, with Amanda being a given, and dearly missed hearing all her quips in person - although he appreciated the fact that their arguments couldn’t escalate given it was through a screen and not in person. Surprisingly enough, Amaro had also kept in close contact with Rafael. It was just to cope at first, given that Nick had to testify against his own dad and then never got to talk with most of his family - his mom being an exception - ever again. They talked about “next steps” and general stuff on the job. Once Nick had left, the conversations were a bit different. Rafael was more open, probably given there were no relationship boundary lines that could be crossed this time. He opened up to him about daily frustrations - he hated when people placed mobile orders at Starbucks (and Starbucks in general) and used his usual snark to deflect the very real fear of increasing death threats.

What had turned into a _bro that sucks_ (from Nick) turned into an _I’m here if you need to talk_ (from Rafael) turned into a _hey, how do I talk to Maria about this?_ (from Nick) turned into _coming out to anyone is never easy_ (from Rafael). So yeah, maybe Nick had talked to Rafael about those feelings that crept and seeped into his skin sometimes, feelings he had always told himself not to feel. If you were to confront him about it he would puff up and scowl, still defensive as ever. It’s the same coping mechanism that made people think him and Rollins were dating. Learned from many many years of told to _man up_ , to go out and get himself a girlfriend already, the same trauma and behavior that brought him to one unhappy relationship after another with the answer right in front of it. Nicolas still can’t say the word _gay_ out loud.

As Nick and Barba’s texts went from just texts too long phone calls, the seasons turned from spring to fall to a harsh winter. On a particularly rough night about a week from Christmas, Rafael called Nick, disregarding the time difference entirely. It was well past 12 am in New York, and Amaro was home in his somewhat shitty but cozy apartment eating reheated takeout when his phone buzzed, expecting it to be a text but surprised by his phone actually ringing. His first guess was Rollins calling him to recap the latest reality TV episode, which usually happened on speaker with Carisi interjecting every 40 seconds, backing her up. A pang of _something_ hit him when the screen read Rafi (a nickname the other was unaware of). The last time Rafael had called at a weird time, Nick was still working at SVU, and Rafael’s grandmother had died. He really hoped it wasn’t that severe.

Nick picked up the phone with caution. He waited for Rafael to say something first, but he guessed he had to give in to 10 pm Phone Call Chicken.

“Rafael? ¿ _Todo bien por ahi_?” Barba coughed, and at this point, Nick knew it was a nervous habit of his.

“Yeah, everything’s cool. I just, uh, this was a bad idea. Sorry.” Nick sensed that Rafael was tense, but would rather just enjoy talking to him than prodding. Rafael would open up in his own time. He got comfortable, muting the tv and readjusting his blankets.

“No, it’s cool. I was just worried. What’s up?”

“Nicolas.” Rafael coughed again, and Nick could hear him taking a drink of something.

“Yes...?”

“Nicolas, it is 1 AM and I have just finished one of the most draining cases of my life. I am very intoxicated. I want to see you again, and I want to kiss you.”

Nick’s mouth went dry at the thought. “Uh... yes. That sounds like, uh. Nice.”

Rafael exploded into laughter. “I’m so fucking sorry, dude. We can pretend I’m too drunk to remember this and just be friends, I get this is weird, that you’re still trying to hold in the whole gay thing - I mean, I’m bisexual, so it's different for us -”

Nick cleared his throat once, twice. “I’ll think about it. I would really like that. When... when you are sober. We should plan this.” Nick hoped that was that, and he could sleep, and try to push away the thoughts of kissing Rafael for another night. He hung up, too nervous to hear what Barba would say, and considered throwing his phone across the living room.

They both slept soundly, imagining what the touch of the other’s skin would feel like after such a long time.

**

Winter turned into spring and with it came a flood of slush in the streets, which is why Amaro boarded the plane from L.A. back to New York in soaking wet shoes. He had only packed one pair and now, as he settled into his window seat, thought about how his mom would make him polish his church shoes before drying them out on the apartment balcony. The window seat was unintentional but good luck nevertheless. On the way from New York he had to drive through endless midwestern sprawl and now he got to see it from above. Winter turned into spring and Amaro had actually followed through with Rafael’s drunken proposition. Rafael his _boyfriend_ , whose favorite color was blue and liked dogs more than cats. Rafael who had spent endless hours soothing his nerves and worries about coming back to New York, about seeing everyone in the squad room, everything different but familiar. Rafael who also got kind of shy and quiet sometimes, and yearned to be near him, to reassure him that all those threats were nothing but empty and all his worries would melt away, and no his teeth wouldn’t get ugly because he drank so much coffee.

Barba had officially asked Nick out the day after Christmas. Amaro had spent the night before pretending to be Santa and attending midnight Mass like he had every other year of his life. Now, it was 12 am in New York and Rafael finally let Nick open the package that had arrived on his doorstep a week earlier. In it were some fancy socks and equally fancy soap, as well as a letter from him. A letter _for him_ detailing just how much Barba wanted to be near him, _with him_. Amaro would not admit he cried. He felt kind of silly, seeing as he had expected only the worst from some benign UPS package. Nick had written a letter too, but couldn’t admit to him that this feeling was definitely what love was supposed to be like, and he broke down thinking about how much his family already hated him and how much he wanted this life with Rafael and how much he was defying God. In the end, he still said yes and in the end, he had paid for the plane tickets, ordering Barba to take a very specific weekend off. That is how Nicolas had ended up on this plane back to New York with his heart in his throat and his phone on airplane mode playing some mindless game he had downloaded earlier. 

**

The plane touched down in New York in the late evening and Nick was definitely shaking. He was able to take his luggage out of the overhead bin without accident and nervously made it to the general area, where an equally nervous Rafael was waiting for him. Nick saw him first. It looked like he had come straight from work - a long wool jacket over a dark blue suit, typing away anxiously until he looked up to see Nick nearly running toward him. _It wasn’t like in the movies_ , Nick would say, but it sure as fuck felt like that in the moment. In the seconds leading up to their awkward hug Rafael thought about how long it had been since he had kissed someone. He didn’t want to embarrass the detective and instead gave him a short hug that could have been confused for friendly or familial.

(Something he would never mention to Nicolas - he was also worried he had a blackmailer on his trail now that the death threats had lessened in their frequency.)

“Hey,” Nick smiled, and Barba couldn’t escape the warmth blooming in his chest, regardless that he had spent the last twenty minutes anxiously texting Benson that he was freezing.

“Hey to you too. How was your flight?” Barba took Nick’s suitcase and fell in stride with him towards the exit.

“It was a flight. Got some ginger ale, that was fancy,” he laughed, trying to cut the tension. It worked, and they fell back into their almost-arguing mainly-joking kind-of-flirting conversations they had had without the other there, to remind them how real this was. Rafael ordered a taxi as they talked. They had the night - what was left of it - to themselves. Carisi and Rollins took it upon themselves to hold a reunion dinner the second they heard Amaro would be in town. Benson apologized profusely to Rafael when she realized it was a _personal_ trip and let it slip to the rest of the squad. Amaro didn’t mind. Carisi was cooking, and Amaro had to admit the man’s food was amazing, and after nothing but granola bars for the last eight hours, he wanted some damn pasta.

**

As soon as the door to Barba's apartment shut and locked, Rafael had his hands on Nick’s shoulders, going down to his waist. Nick couldn’t think of any coherent words. Neither one dared to close the gap between them, almost floating, gravitating until they were kissing, and it was everything Nick was told about feeling sparks. That thought kept floating through his head as he followed Rafael into his bedroom, kissing him until he couldn’t count how many times he had. Nick could worry about dinner in a couple minutes. Nick could worry about making this experience coherent later because right now Nick is drowning in the realization that his boyfriend Rafael is an amazing kisser and that he is gay regardless of how much God hates him for it. Right now they were falling asleep, limbs tangled, finally being able to touch and breathe and be near each other after so long.

(Lightning flashes outside, followed by thunder, and Rafael cannot remember the last time he felt this safe and secure during a storm.)

**Author's Note:**

> a note: im latinx and was raised catholic thus the really weird intensity i have surrounding catholicism when i write about it


End file.
